The End of All Things
by Peculiar.Minds
Summary: She wasn't proud; it didn't make her happy, and it most certainly wasn't something that she'd wanted to do, but she had no other choice. That's how it always is, isn't it? You're placed in a situation where it's make or break, and you're faced with a choice. It isn't like there's a third option where you do nothing, you have to pick. She'd never been good at decision making.


She wasn't proud; it didn't make her happy, and it most certainly wasn't something that she'd wanted to do, but she had no other choice. That's how it always is, isn't it? You're placed in a situation where it's make or break, and you're faced with a choice. It isn't like there's a third option where you do nothing, you have to pick. She'd never been good at decision making.

So she did what she had to do, what she was taught to do. She defended herself and detached herself in order to get done what needed to be done. It was by no means easy, this was going to weigh on her for years to come, but at least she was alive. Granted, now she was alone. She knew who she could go to but she had sworn to herself, she wouldn't go back, she couldn't go back.

She had to go back. Again, she had no other choice. No one else would be able to help her; no one else would be _willing_ to help her. But that was the thing about family, right? They love you no matter what, they have your back, and even if you shut them out and ignore them for them better half of 8 years, they still welcome you back with open arms. Right? Even if that wasn't the case, even if there was a slight possibility she could be rejected, it was too late now. She was 10 hours from Atlanta and 6 from Nebraska, it was way too late to turn back now.

She was on some god-forsaken two lane highway in Illinois just praying to God that she remembered how to get home. She should probably take a break; driving for 10 hours straight might get to a person, but, of course, the thought never ran through her head. Once set on something, she hardly ever stopped until she got it. And what she wanted right now was to be somewhere familiar.

She wanted to be sitting in the bar, teasing her younger sister and pissing her mom off. She wanted to be sneaking drinks on Saturday nights. She wanted the familiarity of her old life back. She wanted the familiarity of the life she left. Part of her hated herself for leaving, but the other part was glad. Glad that she finally manned up and took what she wanted. Because, lord knows, all she wanted was to get out of that small town.

As the car continued down the highway, she watched as her head lights began to flicker. She felt a knot over take her stomach and felt fear bubble in her chest. She brushed it off and pushed further that was until the engine sputtered and the car came to a stop. She wanted to shoot herself; she'd forgotten to get gas. Her dumb, impulsive ass had forgotten to get gas, so now here she was on a lonely highway as night was begging to fall with no way to reach anyone. The day so far had been going swimmingly.

* * *

He was pissed. He was pissed at his brother, he was pissed at himself, and he was pissed at the whole damn apocalypse. He wished that he could tell God or Lucifer or whoever the _hell_ had caused any of this shit to fuck off and suffer a long harsh death. And like he usually did when he was pissed, he took to the Impala and drove to nowhere in particular. And the destination of choice for this episode was a two lane, deserted Illinois highway.

It gave him time to clear his head, time for him to listen to his thoughts, the purr of the engine and the soft hum of rock music playing in the background. Normally, he would take his anger out at a bar or to an actual person, but he couldn't do that tonight because tomorrow they were meting Cas and the Harvelle girls to solve a case. He couldn't be hung over for that. Well, he _could,_ but he would never hear the end of it from Sam. Plus, Ellen considered him a pretty decent guy, and there was an example he had to set for Jo. So drinking was out for the night, and a drive was in.

He still ended up at a bar, only a bar fifty miles away from his brother. He knew it was a problem, but drinking seemed to dissolve his stress. And that's exactly what he was doing, nursing a beer and relaxing, when _she_ walked in.

His first thought was one along the lines of, 'What the hell is a girl like her doing in a place like this?' His second thought was borderline raunchy. She was a tall, slender girl with long brown hair and mile long legs that he could only imagine wrapping around his waist. She had sweet features and seemed like the all-around good girl. She slumped onto a bar stool, and he watched as her black pencil skirt slid up on her thighs a bit.

He grabbed his drink and moved closer to her. She glanced over at him, and he gave her a smile. She scoffed and waved the bartender over. She ordered a shot and slid her stilettos off, letting them hit the floor with a thunk. He watched her carefully for a moment before clearing his throat.

"I'm Dean."

"And _I'm_ not interested," she snapped, downing her shot. She met Dean's gaze, and his smirk faltered. Her green eyes seemed oddly familiar. He could have sworn he knew them from somewhere. Not many people have gold flecks in their green eyes.

"Now, if you'd kindly fuck off." She glared harshly at Dean, and, for a moment, he felt as if he should back off. But he was far too intrigued to walk away now. He just smiled and watched as her look of irritation turned into one of rage.

"Listen here, you little shit, I have had a long day, and I do not need to be hit on by some drunk guy so leave me alone. I'm not even your type," she almost shouted. She had the whole bar's attention now. Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You're not my type?" Dean asked, taking a sip of his beer. She glared harder and ripped the beer from his grasp and took a sip.

"Now, correct me at any point if I'm wrong. You like low maintenance; a girl you don't have to make breakfast for the morning after. You have no interest in her personal life, and, God forbid, she wants to see you again. You have no interest in a serious relationship. You want a quick romp in the sheets and never to see her again." The girl smiled but Dean's face remained hardened. "I'll take your lack of rebuttal as confirmation"

Dean took his beer back from her hands and took a long sip before clearing his throat. The girl raised an eyebrow as Dean narrowed his eyes at her.

"My turn," he said. "You're a relationship girl. You've never had a one night stand in your life, but you love the game. You get guys to fall all over you with those long legs and the bitchy attitude. You love the rush you get when you reject a guy because some lucky chump in high school rejected you, and it's payback. But you got caught up; you made a mistake and actually fell for one of them. Then that went to shit, so you took your anger on anyone who even glances at you-."

"Are you done?"

"Honey, I'm just getting started." Dean smirked. "You're a tease; you've had your heart broken one too many times, so in order to avoid getting hurt, you let the guys fall for you but run at the slightest hint of a feeling on your end. But the ring on your left hand suggests that you tripped up again. You had a moment of weakness and fell in love, _again_, only to get your heart broken, _again_. Which leads us to why a girl like you is sitting alone in a bar in backwoods Illinois."

The girl glared at him. The contempt that graced her features was hard to miss, and Dean knew he pegged her.

"I'll take your lack of rebuttal as confirmation," Dean said using her words against her. She huffed and waved the bar tender back over. As she took another shot, she turned to look at Dean with a wicked smile on her face.

"Fuck you," she smiled, sliding off the bar stool and slipping her heels back on. Dean laughed.

"And she bolts again." She froze. Her back was to him, but he could tell how angry she was from her body stance. She slowly turned to look at him. Her face wasn't quite as harsh as Dean had thought it would be. She smiled and then before Dean could process it, her fist came into contact with his nose. Dean's head reared back from the impact, and he reached up to grab his face. He pulled away to see a bit of blood on his hands.

Dean grunted and slammed a few bills on the counter before chasing after her. She was making her way across the parking lot, and he darted to catch up to her. He grabbed her wrist and dodged another fist that was attempting to hit his face.

"Let go of me!"

And he was about to, but then he noticed the tattoo peeking out from underneath the sleeve of her blouse. Dean pulled her wrist closer to him and pushed the sleeve farther up her forearm. It was an anti-possession tattoo. Dean stared at it for a few moments before looking up and meeting the girl's eyes. She was staring at him curiously.

She slowly pulled her wrist away, and Dean dropped his hands to his sides. They stared at each other for a few more moments before Dean pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal his own anti possession tattoo. His was larger in comparison to the one on her wrist but they were the exact same design.

"What do you know?" Dean asked her. The girl stared at his tattoo for a moment before looking away for a moment.

"I know what my father taught me."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Lennon."

* * *

She knew this was beyond stupid. Lennon was a smart girl; she knew when an idea was good, and she knew when to run for the hills, but, in this moment, she didn't care. This man was a hunter, and as much as, he pissed her off earlier they had some things to explain to one another.

So now here she was sitting in the passenger seat of a '67 Impala, sipping at the beer she had taken from the bar. She had her small purse sitting in her lap and had her shoes kicked off her feet once more. She was more comfortable with a stranger than she had been in the past few years of her life. And maybe it was because this man knew nothing about her, there was no judgment coming from him, not yet. But she knew the real reason she felt so comfortable was because this man reminded her of home. He had the flannel, the boots, the jacket, straight to the knife hidden in his waistband and the fact he was a hunter.

"How long have you hunted?" Dean asked. Lennon pulled herself from her mind and looked over at him. She shook her head lightly.

"Only a few times in my teen years. When I turned 14, my dad decided that I was old enough to hunt. He died when I was 19. I never hunted again after that," Lennon explained. "It was the only hunt I didn't go on with him in five years, and he died."

"Why didn't you continue?" Dean asked. Lennon chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair.

"He ruined my life. He wouldn't let me stop hunting. I didn't share the thrill of the hunt with him." Lennon turned towards the window and huffed. She didn't tell him that she wasn't even in town when her father died or that she didn't go to his funeral. She didn't mention that she'd run away.

"I left when he died and went to college in Atlanta. I've been there ever since."

"Why did you leave?" Dean asked. "Atlanta, I mean."

"Story for another time, I suppose," Lennon said. Dean nodded and pulled into the motel parking lot. Dean parked in front of room 12 and got out the car. Lennon reluctantly followed Dean into the motel room.

"We've been waiting for you." As Lennon entered the room behind Dean, she saw two other men sitting at a small round table by the window. One of the men, the blue eyed, black haired one, stared blankly at her while the other, the blue eyed, longer brown hair one, narrowed his eyes at her.

"Who's that?" The one with the longer hair asked.

"Lennon. She's a hunter," Dean said as he shut the motel door and gestured for Lennon to make herself at home. She didn't move.

"And she's here…why?"

"She needed a place to stay tonight, and I thought she could help."

"What?" Lennon turned to look at Dean with raised eyebrows. "What do you mean you thought I could help?"

"Well, obviously you're very skilled; I mean you almost broke my nose. And the more people we can get to help the better it will be," Dean said.

"I never agreed."

"You look like you could use the distraction, since you were sitting in a bar...all alone...in the middle of nowhere," Dean said smiling slightly.

Lennon crossed her arms over her chest and debated for a moment. She should say no and walk away but part of her wanted to stay, to bury itself in the distraction of the hunt.

"Let us explain what's going on and then you can decide," Dean said. Lennon nodded and sat down at the table with the two other men. They both still seemed very hesitant towards her, but she knew how hunters worked; they didn't trust until you proved yourself trust worthy.

"I'm Sam, Dean's brother," the one with the longer hair said. Lennon gave him a small smile and looked over to the one in the trench coat. He narrowed his eyes at her, and Dean cleared his throat.

"That's Cas; he's an angel." Lennon looked over at Dean checking to see if she had heard him right. Angel? There was no such thing, was there?

"What exactly is going on? If he is an angel, why- I don't understand," Lennon said, running her hands through her hair. Dean glanced at Sam and then sighed.

"The apocalypse is happening, and we're trying to stop it," Dean said. "Angels are fighting demons, and Lucifer has risen and is trying to obtain his vessel, and the angels want him back in hell."

"How did this all happen?"

"The 66 seals were broken. The 66 seals are the lock on Lucifer's cage and when 66 seals are broken Lucifer is set free, the seals were broken," Sam said. Lennon tried to wrap her head around what was happening, but in the end couldn't. She didn't know how to grasp this idea, and she most certainly didn't know how she could be of any help.

"How can I help?" Despite her probable inability to help, she couldn't just sit idly by while she knew what was happening around her.

"We're meeting some other hunters in an 'abandoned' town tomorrow. Supernatural omens have been off the charts there," Dean said.

"What about my car, you said you'd help me get gas for my car?" Lennon asked. Dean nodded.

"And I will. After this hunt. So are you in?"

Lennon looked around at the men in the room and huffed. She gave a small nod and a wide smile spread across Dean's face.

* * *

Morning came quicker than Lennon would have liked. She hated the motel bed she was sleeping in. It felt like she was sleeping on newspaper, and now she had a kink in her back. She woke up excited, though. As much as she hated hunting, she had missed it, and she was happy to go at it again.

They were currently parked in some street waiting for Sam and Dean's hunting buddies. She was stuffed in the back seat with Cas, and he was sure to put as much space between them as possible. It didn't bother her necessarily, but it seemed to her he was trying to keep his distance from her, and she didn't know why.

"Alright, Lennon," Dean said. Lennon looked over to him and raised her eyebrows. "You ready for today?"

Lennon nodded and took a deep breath. She may not be completely ready physically, but she was ready mentally for this. She gave Dean a small smile and looked out the window of the parked impala.

"Good, because they're here," Dean was looking past her now. His gaze was out the back window on two women approaching the impala. Lennon opened the door of the impala and looked back to see who was approaching.

She froze halfway out the door. Her heart sank and her stomach twisted into a knot. They had grown older, but she knew after a second of gazing at them.

The older of the two women stopped walking. She mirrored Lennon's shocked expression. She had wanted to see that face for years, and now here she was in an impala with two hunters, something she never wanted for Lennon.

The woman took a deep breath and continued walking towards the impala. She barely noticed the greeting the brothers, and the angel spoke to her; she walked straight to Lennon and wrapped her arms around her.

Lennon wasn't as receptive. It took her many long moments to wrap her arms around the woman, but once she did, she burst into tears.

"I've missed you, Mom." Lennon whispered.


End file.
